The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1887-04-22

The echoes of the tSix-Quatre.
Grumbling, the doctor got out of bed,
and from the window growled:
"Who's thereP''
wort Kartif's wife"
1.-The herring curer from Val Kar-
niou?"
Eyes; and if you don't come he'll
die.
"Well, you'll then be widow"
Here are twenty fretzers."
''Twenty fretzers!" muttered he;
''what q windfall to be sure. Run the
risk of catching cold and lumbago for
such sum, when I've got to attend
tomorrow morning the equity, but
wealthy Edzingoy, at Kiltrens, whose
ailment is worth to me fifty fretzers a
minute. Not /, indeed
And with this pleasant prospect. DR..
Trifulgas sought his bed, and went to
sleep again as soundly as before.
Nv.
Whip! splash! and then rap! rap!
rap!
Three blows from the knocker, struck
with firm hand, added their rattle,
this time, to the noise of the storm.
The doctor, startled in his slumber,
got up in towering passion. On
opening his window the storm swept
in like whirlwind.
IT'S for the herring-curer.
"What, that wretch again?'
81 am his mother"
'May his mother, wife and daughter
die with himr'
"'Tis q fit
"Aye, and a tight one, no doubt"
chuckled the doctor, in his rage.
owe have little money" said the
old woman, "an installment on the
house sold to Dantrup, the drayman
of the Rue Messagliere If you don't
come, my granddaughter will be with
out father, my daughter without a
husband, and myself without son.
1t was heart-rending and horrible to
hear the old womans voice, and to
think that the icy wind froze the blood
in her veins and nipped the very bones
under her skin.
"a fit, say youP then the fee is 200
fretzers," rejoined the heartless leach.
"We have only 120."
"Good-night, then," and once more
the window was closed.
On second thought, however, he
came to the conclusion that, after all,
for an hours walk and half hours
attendance, 120 fretzers made 60 fret
zers an hour--one fretzer minute! 1t
was small profit at best, but not to be
entirely despised.
So, instead of getting into bed again,
the doctor this time slipped on his vel
vet suit, hurried down stairs in pair
of stout boots, muff1ed himself in a
thick waterproof oyercoat, put on
his gloves and sou'wester, and leaving
the lamp lighted on the table near his
Codex, opened at page 1877, pushed
back the door of the "Six-Quatre,"
and appeared on the threshold.
The old woman was there, leaning
on stick, her frame emaciated by
eighty years of toll and misery.
"The money" said he.
"Here it is, muttered the wretched
woman, "and may God return it to
you q hundred fold!'
"GodP The money of God|' sar-
donically grinned the doctor. Has
any one ever seen the color of itP''
He there upon whistled for Hurzof,
put small lantern in the dog's mouth,
and bent his steps seward.
The old woman trudged on behind.
Good heavens, what a tempest of
wind and RANT
The bells of Sainte-Philfilene SWAY to
and fro under the headlong fury of the
storm, an ominous portent, as we
know, but DR.. Trifulgas eschews all
superstitious notions. The fact is that
the doctor believes in nothing at all;
no, not even in his own science-ex-
cept for what it brings him!
What weather, to be sure, and what
a road! Nothing but single and Stag;
the single slippery like sea-weed, and
the Stag crisp as clinker. And no other
light to see by except a tremulous
flicker from Hurzof' lantern.
At times strange, fantastic figures
seem to toss and stir in the flames that
now and again swell from the mouth
of the Vanglor. There is really no
telling what lies hidden at the bottom
Of those inscrutable craters. Perhaps
the souls of the underworld that volati-
lize on reaching our atmosphere.
The doctor and the old woman fol-
lowed the line of coast that runs in and
out of the small bays along the shore.
The sea is of a livid whiteness, and
sparkles as its pillows hurtle the phos-
phorescent fringe of surf that seems to
pour waves on waves of glow-worms
upon the beach. Thus both walk on
until they reach q bend in the road be-
tween two swelling downs, where the
DAOOili ttIINl SCIb lSllCS CIdSH IIlGlI DldUGS
together like so many bayonets.
The dog has drawn closer to his mas
ter, and seems to say:
"Well, what do you thinkP A hum
dred and twenty fretzers to be placed
under lock and key in the safe as soon
as we get back home! That's the way
to build up a fortune! IT'S another
piece of ground added to the vine in
closure! Another dish added to the
evening meal! Another bowl of wash
for faithful Hurzof! Nothing like at
tending patients who are willing to I'M
loose their purse stringsn'.
AT this point the old woman stopped.
She pointed finger palsied with age
toward a red light, some way off in the
gloom; the house evidently of Wort Kar-
tiff, the herring-curer.
"ThereP" laconically put in the doc
tor.
Eyes" nodded the herring-curer's
mother.